


Melancholia in the Jungle

by JamesJenkins9



Category: Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Being Lost, Bestiality, Coming of Age, Dinosaurs, Exploration, Family Drama, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Fear, Gen, Horny Teenagers, Human/Animal Relationship, Islands, Loneliness, Memories, Nature, Non-human, Paranoia, Parent-Child Relationship, Past, Personal Growth, Prehistoric, REPTILES, Rainforests, Sexual Content, Survival, Underage Sex, wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesJenkins9/pseuds/JamesJenkins9
Summary: All alone, Eric Kirby quickly discovers what awaits those who get lost in the jungle of Isla Soma.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was a Dinosaur fanatic as many boys were growing up and the original "Jurassic Park" trilogy was one that fascinated and excited me. Even after my interest in dinosaurs waned, I still think they were amazing animals. The third film is one of my favorites and I did have a little crush on Trevor Morgan shortly after seeing it. This is different from most fandoms I often write stories about, yet I had the idea on my mind and wanted to make it into one before moving on to other projects. The details are based on my own perceptions based on information revealed in the movie, along with my own ideas. This is my first "Jurassic Park" story, please respect it. The film's screenplay and characters are property of Peter Buchman, Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor. Reviews are appreciated of course. Thanks for reading.

The jungle of Isla Soma has eyes. It watches the scared human intruder; it does not let him out of its sight for one second, follows his every step. It has thousands of wary eyes, which can see but can't be seen, because they are hidden in the indiscernible green darkness. The intruder can't see further than a few feet into the jungle, but the jungle sees everything. Its gaze is so intense it makes one feel _exposed_ , it makes one want to hide while any refuge holds a danger.  
  
He can't hide from the jungle's lively hunger. It follows him from the second he entered it. Once the intruder and his lost friend parachuted into the jungle, he cannot flee. All the defenseless intruder knows, sees, feels, tastes, hears, is the dominating green. Green flora and foliage above and underneath, to the front and to the back. Even when he closes his eyes, the shielding green is still all he can see.  
  
The intruder is a young boy, he hasn't yet celebrated his 13th birthday – and someone who is lost in the jungle won't likely live to celebrate any more birthdays. His short dark hair is messy, leaves cling on to it, as if they tried to form a crown for him, to camouflage him like a pursued fugitive. His high, clear forehead glistens with sweat, and mud is smeared over the grime-covered white skin of his face, his handsome formed shoulders, and his long strong legs. His soft hands, that do not look like they belong in this harsh violent world, are shivering and blood runs down them from the fight with the encroaching vastness of the jungle.  
  
He has a knife, barely big enough to count as a real machete, and he tries to clear a path with it. He cuts off parts of the lower trees, of wild, twisted, green vegetation. He tears small scrapes into the jungle that close again within seconds. The jungle barely feels these wounds, yet it never forgives those who hurt it even the smallest bit.  
  
It whispers with a million voices, a whisper so loud it fills your head and covers up any thought. _You're all mine. You're mine now. I'm your home and your grave. I'll never let you leave._ Quickly it swallows him into its green unpredictable mysteriousness, closes the path behind him, so those who follow him won't have much luck in finding him. Nor will he ever find the way back to those he is now separated from, to the uncertain fate he fears – a fate that will soon seem so much better than what happens to those, who get lost in the jungle of Isla Soma.  
  
***  
  
Everyone who knew him agreed that Eric Kirby was surely one of the most handsome boys of his hometown in Enid, Oklahoma, probably also of the whole school, and some even believed she must be among the most sharp-minded ones of the whole county. That he had been born in this suburb, a small town in the middle of the desert, two months after an initially exciting journey on a boat and parasail far from civilization, seemed a cruel irony of fate. A kid like him surely wasn't made for a place like this, which was established years earlier by **InGen** , with only a few hundred scientists who kept researching on the prehistoric nature reserve the tables horrifically turned. But Eric Kirby loved dinosaurs and the jungle, when they weren't trying to kill him.  
  
He was handsome indeed. His soft, white skin was just fair enough to be acceptable to the other people of his town, yet he had inherited his unwavering Mom's stunning beauty. Her hair was cut short and golden blonde, and between long eyelashes sparkled lights in her blue eyes, like the moon's reflection on a quiet picturesque lake at night. She was taller than most women in the county, and her father's ancestry had equipped her with long legs, with a slim, yet feminine.  
  
His Mom really loved his Dad, so she told him before life played a cruel hand. Eric had been raised by his Mom and had grown up listening to stories of the the adventures they had, coupled with his passion for dinosaurs. His parents had lived a life few people could ever make real, before the constant arguing and disagreements made the wounds fester. His life had lost a big sense of unity as they divorced. They had taken some big personal blows on both sides. His Dad nearly threatening to take Eric away from her, to move down to the coast, to be raised by him and educated the way he thought Eric should, which they then started to dispute more heavily over. Thus, his Mom's boyfriend Ben Hildebrand, arranged the trip to the island jungle two weeks earlier, to bond with Eric in the face of the stress. He had been glad to be finally able to escape the pain back home, but his parents wouldn't agree on how to find him. He almost didn't know who they were anymore. Thus, he continued to move forward on the island, which by now was ruled by prehistoric titans. Far from there, Eric knew his Mom had to have been crying – a lost and scared woman that did not want to believe her son was dead.  
  
Eric's Dad, on the other hand, had been born at the coast. He was a true businessman with an adventurer's spirit, raised in the city of Enid, the state's ninth largest one. As a young man, he had always loved to go hiking into the mountains and had gotten inspired to see things, places many he knew never saw outside of the county. The pain of the divorce from Amanda was one he could never forget – and while he was glad that he was still able to be part of Eric's life, he now dreamt of a life at home where he hoped such bullshit would never intervene again. However, he was in charge of **Kirby Paint and Tile Plus** , and of course, someone in charge of a business, however small, could not afford an adventure to a part of the world somewhere they had never been been to.  
  
So, instead, he was reluctant to hear about Eric's trip to the jungle, onto an abandoned illegal island where the chance's of survival were not even slightly high. Ben met Eric's Mom shortly after her divorce from his Dad, and soon fell in love with her. They dated before his _faraway_ Dad could interfere in the growing bond their son was developing with Ben. Amanda gave him his only son, and in the years later a broken heart, before they parted ways. After the strain of the divorce had taken almost all from her, Amanda – ready to start afresh – won custody of Eric.  
  
When the stressful years had died just as Eric entered puberty, his Dad wanted his son to come spend time with him at the coast. He himself, though, did not ever again want to leave the home which for him forever remained those of the only woman he had loved. Eric soon enough found his place in the circles of the other kids in his town and learnt to make a reputation for himself. Paul had hopes Eric would become involved in the trade with him, saying there were many opportunities which he claimed to be more important than science, something his peers never thought was really cool. He told Eric all about it whenever he met him on Sundays after church – he could then for a few hours leave the harsh reality in which he learnt all a young man needed to know.  
  
Finally, Eric's focus returned to his beloved jungle realm – he had been a good student in science, P.E., math and art. Now, her father felt, that the atmosphere at the coast was not suitable for a teenage boy anymore. Something was in the air, and Amanda, who refused to move back to his father's faraway home spoke ever more that Paul had no right to interfere in her life with the incessant phone messages. There were rumors' of renewed fights for custody in the lingering hours of the night, and the strong-minded kid listened to them with dread. Maybe, one day, someone with enough courage would offer an opportunity to get away from this?  
  
It was better for his son to be far away from all this. Eric had, for the most part, learned all a young man needed to know, and should now find his calling – preferably a promising career, hopefully better than his, to have greater prospects that his father always wished for, even though some relatives and especially his ex-wife argued against it.  
  
There were enough men interested in the quiet, blue eyed Amanda. Her business friends and other men who had seen her in town spoke highly of her, and more than one man asked her out. Her affections finally settled upon Ben Hildebrand, a patient man who was an acquaintance of a childhood friend and who showed her the attention she'd been missing – that was more than a recent divorce in her shoes could hope for. For Eric, it would take him on the _adventure_ his Dad had once longed for, but which he had been hesitant to undertake.  
  
But Eric was of a different opinion. He did want to leave the hell hole that became _home_. The stories he read about Jurassic Park had captivated him had created a love for those prehistoric animals in him – for the imposing green depths that Eric had never entered, but in whose presence he had been spellbound. The jungles that were always far off, and whose air filled his lungs with every breath he took – the green primordial scene that had painted the world of his childhood.  
  
To the last moment he had hoped that his Dad might change his mind. Eric wished that he wouldn't listen to him objecting and not let Eric become _close_ to his Mom's boyfriend – who, besides wanting to take him to Isla Soma, was also misguided and had a reputation of being naïve. But all his fears had been in vain. Finally, the night before Amanda was going to change her mind about the trip, Eric decided to go.  
  
His Mom's voice still sounded in Eric's ears after so many weeks. "You're one smart kid. You weren't meant to stay in one spot and do boring stuff. Adventure's in your blood."  
  
Eric believed her. He did not know the jungle except from afar, but he had always felt a call from it. Everyone said how dangerous the jungle was, no novice dared to enter it alone – but Eric was sure this would be different for him.  
  
***  
  
He got up late at night and dressed in what he thought was most suitable to go out into the wilderness. It was a knee-length, khaki shorts. It along with a red shirt the only clothes he had; even going into the jungle it would surely not be fit for him to wear clothes exposing some skin. If by God, he found any other people, then, so he hoped, they would ask to get off the island without question. He was as quiet as he could be while dressing in the darkness. The overturned water truck was silent, only a faint growling could be heard from the distance in which fearsome carnivores hunted about. Eric had hidden a small bag with a bottle of water and some granola bars in his bag, along with a machete. He got those, and then approached the window to climb out into the clearing.  
  
Two infant _Saurolophus_ that came towards the truck came towards him as he climbed out. It did not attack, as he knew herbivores like the back of his hand. Eric kneeled down to pet its head. One of them made a little whining duck-like sound and pushed forward to be closer to him. Eric held out a leaf-rich branch he had collected, which the herbivore nibbled on, and looked into the animal's dark eyes.  
  
"Don't sweat it. I won't hurt you. It's just the jungle. At least you're not alone. No one will find me."  
  
The _Saurolophus_ calmed down, but kept looking at Eric with seemingly sad eyes, as if doubting what he was planning to do was a good idea. Eric knew that when they sensed danger, the herbivores never dared to venture too deep into the jungle. They preferred to return to their large herds, who knew the best feeding areas and offered them companionship and safety.  
  
He stood up and looked around. The refuge of his survival was a makeshift pathetic made of metal, glass and leather, surrounded by tall rainforest trees. A bit further off he heard the calls of _Compsognathus (Compies),_ one the native predators of the jungle, they were one of main dangers, after which the island had been abandoned. He heard the faraway hissing of some raptors following them, plus the bellows of a few _Sauropods_. Sounds of the evenings of his isolation – he remembered his Mom hadn't wanted to sleep in the beach house on a vacation, it made her feel locked in, and she had taken him to her hut, where there was a hammock for each of them. Eric would sneak away as soon as he heard the even snores of his aunt and hide in the shadows between the huts, to watch his parents sitting around the fire keeping night watch and passing around a dark green bottle, filled with a drink that caused them to sing and tell jokes about things Eric didn't understand, but whose adult words made him giggle none the less.  
  
The animals were far away, but Eric could still taste the smell of T. Rex piss in the air. The wood was never quite dry, especially in the rainy season. It used to almost cause him to retch; even now he felt it stinging his nose, while the nightmarish roars filled his ears after so many weeks.  
  
He was tempted to sneak back out there again, to sit on the sandy ground behind a hut and see whether his parents were still the same people telling the same lame jokes.  
  
He was already taking a few steps in that direction when the cry of a pterosaur rose into the air. It came from the jungle that started a few hundred meters to the left of the truck, looking like a dark wall in the night. It called him, warned him not to go to the _huts_. If watching eyes saw him and took him back to his Dad, his plan would be wrecked. The morning was close, so he wouldn't be able to go far again, and they would make sure to track him well in whichever direction he went. Even he wasn't dumb to consider he'd be dead before the end of the month.  
  
He stepped towards the wooded edge that let him out of the forest. He felt the chill of a wind that signaled the early hours of the morning. Far towards the horizon, beyond the deep, tree-laden valley, the hills painted black shadows against a slightly red stripe that was appearing in the sky. Eric had to hurry.  
  
Under his bare feet, Eric felt wet grass and the soft, muddy ground. Behind him, he could hear again the roars of dinosaurs, who stayed within the safety of their own and did not dare to follow him, yet. Around him, more and more man-made appeared as he walked, at first small, solitary, abandoned by the employees of **InGen** – the human fight against the forces of nature. Then, in front of him, undergrowth started to fill out the spaces between tall trees, as if trying to keep him out. His bluish-green eyes searched along this green wall, and he found a little space, like a door that allowed him to slip inside, into darkness that surrounded him soon after he stepped into it. It was a darkness that made him forget which direction would lead back with every step he took. Darkness, that only became greener as the sun came up, but remained dark, remained shadowed, and did not let through a single ray of the sun or the blue sky. A darkness, that pulled him into itself deeper and deeper, that enveloped him, like a green, dark abyss...  
  
***  
  
Cautiously, Eric walked through the jungle for days. Once the water and granola bars he had brought along were gone, she drank the water of the afternoon rains that got caught on leaves and ran along the tree trunks, and that of little rivers he crossed at times. He ate the fruits he could recognize, thanks to reading Dr. Alan Grant's.  
  
He soon realized that people's fear of the jungle had been right – he was lost and scared. He expected snakes, poisonous insects and worse a dinosaur to attack him at any time. The jungle didn't accept him as part of it. It recognized him as prey. It ripped the red fabric of his shirt off him. It revenged the tiny wounds he gave it with his knife by slapping branches into his face, by cutting his legs, by setting biting bugs onto his ankles when he had to cross swampy spots. Doctor Grant's stories had made him expect that he would instinctively know how to live in the jungle and where to turn to find a possible means of help. But the forest rejected him. He remained a stranger. He was forced to fight the jungle, and the jungle was fighting the boy.  
  
Yet, he was against the odds alive. The jungle hit him and fought him, but it didn't kill him.  
  
At night, he climbed up the lower branches of a tree, to be safe from what was on the ground while he slept. Once he woke up facing a huge snake, but the snake luckily ignored him. From then on, he had a constant fear of being crushed to death by such an animal in his sleep, but for some strange reason he woke up alive every morning.  
  
A few times he believed he heard human voices mixed with the constant wild noises of the jungle. He called out hoping to hear his parents cries in response. Once he even saw _someone_ – he couldn't recognize whether it was a human or a animal – but the presence fled when he called out.

 _I must be seeing things_... he thought. Eric cried and cursed at the realization that not even the animals of the jungle would _accept_ him.  
  
That day, he was all about to resign himself to death. He walked on, because there was nothing else to do. He ate and drank, because the instincts of hunger and thirst were too strong and he was too tired to resist them. But he stopped fighting.  
  
The jungle, however, still did not kill him. It did not allow him the relief of the death he would be fine with. Instead, it became more gentle, giving him food just when he needed it, and leading him by opening the thickets in one direction or other. The undergrowth and biting insects stopped torturing the boy's soft skin. Instead, huge leaves and ferns seemed to caress him as he walked by. The jungle was like a tropical breeze that now calmingly rubbed its hand against him, when just before it had scratched him.  
  
 _The jungle's screwing with me_ , Eric realized. He didn't trust it; he knew that at any moment it could show him its claws again, for the last and final strike. But he was too tired to feel the terror that had gripped his heart on the first day – the day he had realized why the island had been abandoned years ago. All he could do now was to walk on. When he stopped and sat down, all the shades of green and brown in front of his eyes became a blurred mess that made his head ache, the sounds of birds and insects echoed throughout his body. Only when walking could he could tell them apart. Only when he kept moving could he avoid looking up along the never-ending tree trunks, to see just green and more green, going up endlessly, proving that there was no sky and surely no heaven up there, that the forest was never-ending, that it was all there was in this primeval world.  
  
At some point it dawned on Eric that he must have a fever. The afternoon rain's drops seemed to sizzle when they hit his hot, glowing skin.  
  
He reached a part of the jungle where the trees were thicker and taller than ever. It seemed like no human foot had ever touched the ground since nature reclaimed it, and even the birds and insects were unusually quiet here. It seemed as if the thick vegetation had swallowed all of their sounds.  
  
It was getting dark, so Eric grabbed a lower branch of a huge and old tree. Its bark was green with moss and it seemed to be the most majestic tree he had seen so far. He pulled himself up and rolled into an embryonic position on some mold that had formed near where the branch met the trunk. The smooth coolness of the tree seemed to calm the heat of fever that raged under his skin, and slowly Eric drifted off into sleep.  
  
***  
  
Something thick and long slid over the boy's back. It was almost as thick as his waist, and seemed to be crawling over her, starting at his feet, over the legs, the small of his back, approaching one of his shoulders now. It was of a cool and slightly rough, yet somehow smooth surface. With a strong movement it crawled around his shoulder, covering him, almost _hugging_ him.  
  
Eric awoke slowly at first, feeling a gentle touch, something caressing him all over his body. But then, when consciousness slowly crept into his mind, he was fully awake with a sudden, strong beat of his heart. His eyes still closed, he could feel that whatever it was that was trapping him was almost as thick as his own waist, and he had no idea how long it was. It started to slip underneath him now, making it absolutely impossible to get away.  
  
 _Shit, a centipede_! he thought, and forced himself to remain silent. Maybe it would go away then. If he moved, it would surely inject him with venom. Yet, whatever it was already above and underneath him, had slipped all around his body. By then he felt that he was being lifted up into the air, away from the branch he had been sleeping on. Only now, Eric opened his eyes.  
  
The jungle was mostly illuminate in the daytime, and it was darker at night. But this part of the jungle was the darkest – it was difficult to see anything at all. Yet the one thing that Eric realized was that whatever moved so snake-like around his body, holding to him strongly but with apparent care not to crush him, lifting him far up into the air was not a centipede.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric has a bizarre experience he'll undoubtedly ever forget.

He couldn't recognize what it was.  
  
He felt it moving over his skin, as if massaging it, and at the same time he felt the rest of his clothes beginning to fall off.  
  
His horror kept him from screaming, or even trying to move. He could feel his heart beat so strongly, he thought it would explode. He almost wished it were a centipede after all, finally giving him the death he had been waiting for. Or fever. But he felt more awake and less feverish than he had ever since entering the jungle. He closed his eyes again, clinging on to the hope that it was all a dream, that he would wake up now.  
  
Something else touched his legs, with just a insect-like a movement. It was thinner but just as strong as what held on to his upper body, and slowly seemed to wrap around him ankle and then the lower part of his leg. A few seconds later, something similar touched his other leg, and he felt both his legs slowly pulled apart. He was unable to struggle, to defend himself: Whatever it was, it was so strong that he couldn't even move a millimeter against its will. The first one still moved up on his body. It finally wound itself around his arms which it had pulled up above his body. There it held them firm and closely together.  
  
For a minute or two all remained quiet. Eric couldn't move, nor did the things that held him move. He closed his eyes again. If he tried to fall asleep – maybe it was all a crazy dream, and he would wake up and find himself in his small hiding place beneath the lowest branch of the tree. Or even, maybe in his makeshift _home_ , scared of the passing predators, but at least safe from the jungle? Or in the hammock in the little hut next to his parent's house, still a little kid, his parents sleeping next to him. But he couldn't fall asleep, and the tears he felt streaming out of his eyes and running down his cheeks felt all too real.  
  
Then there was the tail. Or something that felt like one – many scales. Eric did not dare to open his eyes. At first, many of the hands touched him: They started each at the inside of one of his legs, moving up, slowly, but unstoppable, towards the part where both his legs met. Their touch was caressing, it almost soothed his fear a bit. At the same time, the direction of the tail was unmistakable. Then another _tail_ was placed on his head, where it started playing with his hair. There were more hands that carefully caressed his shoulders, his stomach, and then approached his chest.  
  
Eric's heart still beat wildly with fear. But there was something in the tenderness of those tails touch that calmed him down and replaced the fear with something else, with a wish that Eric couldn't quite describe.  
  
He felt a hand touching his body, and he felt his left nipple stiffening under the touch. Soon another tail reached his other one. For a moment they were playing with his nipples, which were more sensitive than he'd ever felt them – each touch sent a shiver through his body. Then they cupped his butt firmly.  
  
The _tails_ between his legs reached the place they had been aiming for since first making contact with his skin. Eric felt them touching him where he'd been taught since puberty, that not even he himself was to touch. For a second, he remembered the whispered references of other kids in his school, or the admonishing glances of boys and girls in school about the jokes like those of the boys in the locker room. But when he felt the warm contact of scales with that place, a sweet, slick feeling overwhelmed him and made him forget his fear – made him crave more of that touch, and his lips parted to let out a low moan in which he could barely recognize his own voice. It sounded more like something an animal would make.  
  
The tail moved down a bit, parted his lips, and tried to push between them into him. To his surprise Eric could feel that he was wet inside. One _tail_ entered him easily, just to move out of him again and distribute that liquid that had come from inside him on the spot that it had touched before.  
  
The boy now wanted to open his eyes and see what was touching him, what was holding him to be subject to these many _limbs_ , and how many of _them_ were there around him. But just at this moment, another scaly tail moved over his eyes, covered them and kept him from opening them. This one felt warm, and softer than any human hands Eric had ever felt. Something was different about them, but he could not quite say what it was. Suddenly again, they gave him a strangely comforting feeling that made him forget his uncomfortable situation, that made him give in to _its_ touch.  
  
The tail continued pushing into him – carefully, but slowly getting stronger. Eric had never experienced a feeling like this caused him before, and wouldn't have been able to describe it if asked. It took over his body completely, and darkened out every thought, made him forget the fear, fever and the tiredness of his body. He could hear the echo of moans in the forest, but barely realized it was his own voice that he heard. It was getting louder, the moans turning almost into screams, and Eric believed he saw an explosion of lights within his closed eyes, while a wave of pleasure shook his body.  
  
Then, suddenly, the _tails_ left him. Those between his legs, those on his butt cheeks, those that had been caressing the rest of his body were removed. Only those on his eyes remained.  
  
For a few moments, his body was exposed only to the night air. He was still held up by his arms and legs. Trembling, yearning to be touched again he listened into the night to hear if he could make out someone there. It, them, whatever was keeping him like this, whatever had made him feel this _amazing_. But all he could hear was silence, and in the distance, the nightly sounds of the jungle. He tasted a strange yet sweet scent in the air that he knew came from his own maturing body. It mixed with the smell of the jungle. As if no one or anything was there, except him and the forest.  
  
The next moment, he felt the hands again, roaming his body gently, as if exploring it. At the same time, he felt something else touching him between his legs. It wasn't just a finger this time. What was probing at his still wet entrance now seemed a lot larger than the tail that had been there before.  
  
He felt it trying to enter him. He could feel it pulsating, he felt it was thick, for a moment she thought it would never be able to get inside him – and fear welled up in him again. What was happening here? What was this, and what was it planning to do to him? Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eric remembered the pictures some girls he had secretly looked at when he was visiting his Dad last month, and the stories around them. He had never seen a naked woman, but he had seen pictures of them.  
  
He tried to struggle against the strong grip on his arms and legs, but he knew it was useless. He wanted to call out for help, but at that very moment he felt _it_ pushing into him, entering him deeply in one thrust. For a moment there was a sharp pain that turned the call he had on his lips into a short scream.  
  
A moment later the pain was gone. Eric could feel that it – whatever it was – was deep inside him, holding still. Then it started moving slowly, and again the feelings that made him almost forget his fear overwhelmed him. Whatever it was that had entered him so crudely was now making him feel like he had never felt before.  
  
The _tails_ – he could never make out how many there were – started caressing his body again. While he felt _it_ moving inside him slowly, pulling out a bit and then re-entering him gently, the scales were careful, prickly. As it picked up the rhythm, began thrusting more strongly into him, the hands became more demanding as well. One of them touched him right at the same spot as before, without interfering with what was thrusting into him. Its rhythmic little movements made the sensations inside him grow again, until once more they overwhelmed him.  
  
Eric felt hands on his butt cheeks, cupping them gently at first, then pinching him. He felt them on his behind; massaging it strongly enough for him to be sure he would've bruises there for quite a while afterwards. He felt something on his neck – it did not feel like a hand, more like a mouth. He believed he could make out teeth that were biting him strong enough to hurt, but gently enough to make him moan with pleasure instead of pain.  
  
The tails, or mouths, or whatever they were, seemed to change their form and their texture all the time. He couldn't possibly guess what they were. At times they felt smooth, like the leaves of some of the trees, or cold like the water of the jungle pools and rivers. Sometimes they were rough like the bark on the trees themselves.  
  
Maybe it was the fever, maybe it was the fact that he was lost in the jungle, or maybe the realization that he couldn't stop this and get away – but whatever the reason, Eric had given up his fear. He gave in to what his body felt. When his body writhed, it wasn't to get out of his ties anymore – he was trying to meet the _thrusts_ , to open himself even more, offer his whole body to whoever was there. He no longer wondered who was doing this to him, he just wanted it to go on. He wanted to stay here forever, if possible.  
  
Another wave of pleasure overwhelmed him; he wasn't sure how many times this had happened by now, but it was stronger this time. So strong that he wasn't sure he would be able to take it. The sound that escaped his lips echoed through the forest.  
  
At that moment, the hands that had been covering his eyes disappeared, as did the other hands that had been touching him, and everything else. Eric needed a second to be able see in the still dark jungle – but when he could, he did not see anything but the jungle. Around him were only trees. There was only him and the enigmatic threatening jungle.  
  
He was still lifted up into the air by something he couldn't make out. He could see it wasn't a centipede. It seemed more like it was the branch of one of the huge trees. Only it was starting to lift him up higher and higher, further away from the ground. Leaves and other parts of trees brushed past him on his way up. Then his eyes caught a glimpse of something in the existence of which he had almost stopped believing – the clear blue sky. It was covered with thousands of beautiful stars, and it was huge, wide, from horizon to horizon, just like the jungle underneath it. He could feel the cold wind, fresh air, and when he looked up, the darkness wasn't green anymore, but blue – calming his eyes.  
  
He was held above the jungle, just on top of what seemed the tallest tree of the whole forest, and he could see it stretch out beneath him, never-ending, and he believed he could feel it breathing calmly, like a animal. As if it was conscious of his feelings. The lost boy suddenly realized again, that he was alone with the jungle. The _captor_ was holding him up here, allowing him one last look at the sky. The _creature_ had claimed him as its own. His eyes went back up to the stars that were growing more faint, as the sky was slowly changing its dark blue into a lighter color, with pink and orange lights appearing on the horizon. Then, he felt he was sinking back down, into the jungle, and soon the darkness closed around him again.  
  
***  
  
Eight weeks had passed before another living person entered that part of the jungle. Since the previous human inhabitants fled, the once operational jungle facilities had become overgrown, and were now barely visible. A pair of thrill-seekers had started appearing to _explore_ the surrounding jungles. But none ever came close to that secluded area where the tallest trees grew, and where there was so much growth that it swallowed even the sounds of the insects and dinosaurs.  
  
Even the main predatory ones, even raptors, usually kept away from the area. It was as if something else ruled it, that center of the jungle. It was not a place where anyone would expect people to occupy. As time passed, Amanda and Paul who rarely found common ground on anything to the point of confrontation, had wanted to find a guide for the venture, but after many of the previous workers had died or refused, no one dared to go back to the island.  
  
Finally though, they convinced one man. Doctor Alan Grant. He was offered a million dollars by the Kirbys for an aerial tour of Isla Soma, and reluctantly he finally accepted the offer- leading him back into a world he had prayed never to see again. His experiences on Isla Nublar made the journey through the jungle a lot _easier_ than it had been for him in the past. So, finally, he stepped into that part of the jungle in which nothing, save the raptors, reigned supreme.  
  
There, he found two raptors in a small forested spot in which they were communicating with each other – more remarkable than anything he had ever seen. His fascination quickly giving way to dread on deciphering their noises. Something had been taken from them. His cover blown by a sentry raptor, nearly to be made into dinner until a gas grenade came out of nowhere, by God's grace. But he'd been told the truth earlier by the Kirby's concerning their son, boy had gone missing on the island two weeks ago – a boy so sharp that even the jungle seemed to have fallen in love with him, and turned him into a survivor waiting to be rescued.  
  
As they were leaving the island, Eric had secretly decided to take some of Isla Soma with him, but even though he left those parts of the jungle, they remained and lived. He concluded that his parents didn't need to know about his explosive experience within its depths. He decided to leave the terror there and cherish the positive outcome, hopefully to have a life with both his parents in it, because he wanted to have a second chance with them together. He smiled seeing them kiss on going home, because of their bravery and determined love. One day though, he hoped, he'd be able to tell his story, though as a modest kid of course he couldn't do so himself.  
  
Thus, soon after the adventure he had taken back with himself cooled, he got ready for a new journey, to return to living a normal life, study for a paleontology degree, and try to come to terms with what his body had faced. But before his parents moved back in together, the eroticized fever of the jungle caught him. Eric constantly pitched a tent, without being able to tell anyone about the _creature_ , except for God, who he felt had been with him on the journey.  
  
Plus he knew better than to tell anyone. Eric knew that these creature lived the jungle of Isla Soma, and only there. Because the jungle doesn't really release anyone once they've already been claimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed my first "Jurassic Park" story. Comments and constructive criticism are appreciated. If this story is not your forte, please do not continue. Thanks for reading!


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